The evergreen room
There is a room in my house and in your house too. A room that might be hard to find at times, (but at other times…) that is painted green or purple, or blue, (or any other color that you can imagine…) but even when you can’t find it, even when you’re not home, when you’re in your bed being rocked, or in the dining room eating a quiet dinner, the room is still there. (Always there…)
The color in this room changes sometimes, for some people. If your room is not painted then it will have patterned wallpaper. And then the pattern will change. The pattern will breathe and shift. It will form into different things and different people. You might even have conversations with your wallpaper in the evergreen room. (Sometimes it doesn’t change though, I wonder why?…)
It is where the home lies. (Where all its ghosts wait for you…)
It’s a large room, (but perhaps a smaller one…). It all depends on what you keep in there. The sky is held in this room. (The sun and moon…) Mine is filled with song. A strange melody, it goes something like: laa lalala dee lalala laa. And on sleepless nights this harmony from my evergreen room weaves through my eyes. It is a heavy room, the pressure, sometimes, enough to drown you. (Crush you…) it is sometimes enough to stop my breath.
In your evergreen room you can pretend whatever you wish to be true. (but not all the time, and sometimes the pretending is harder, slower…) in my room I am forever young, forever young, laying in the ground, keeping the rest of the room young with me.
The feeling when I can’t find my evergreen room is more crushing then being in it. But maybe you haven’t even found it yet, so you wouldn’t understand, (you couldn’t understand…)
For some people the evergreen room is not such a comforting place. Sometimes it is a place of deep shadow, (where no night light could ever penetrate…) it is still where the home lays, still a large room, or a smaller one. (Where all your ghosts lay…)
The nothing man
Just a silly little children’s’ tale, one that gave you chills, one that you will probably forget, if you haven’t already. Just a story that left a dark taste in your mouth. That when you recall it, a deep since of nostalgia runs through your veins. Even though you remember so little of your childhood.
You remember the nothing man.
Just a silly children’s story. One you may or may not remember.
The nothing man. He has a room in every home. Any place where humans hearts feed and warm a hearth, there is always one corner where the nothing man resides. No one knows why the nothing man is here or there, because not many people know about the nothing man at all.
The nothing man doesn’t look like anything or anyone in particular, nothing memorable at all. Nothing sticks with you through the years. Except for the eyes, the eyes hold nothing in them. They are not even blank eyes, or the glazed eyes of the dead.
If you happen to notice the nothing man, he will almost always be facing the wall. Look away quickly though, because if he happens to notice you he will follow you with his eyes. Even when you are elsewhere you will feel his eyes on you. Whatever you do, don’t look right into those eyes that are filled with nothing. Never look into those eyes, though you might be tempted. Because if you ever do, your world will shrink to nothing. And then your eyes reflect nothing, just like the nothing man, and then you turn to nothing, not even a tale for small children.
